World's Worst Warden
by Selande
Summary: Alternate Universe. What if Elissa Cousland was NOT the epitome of a graceful noble or a deadly fighter, but was really prone to accidents - often embarrassing ones, luck, and happenstance?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** _This is my first ever story. It's a little rough around the edges. Any reviews would be appreciated. Changing Rating to M for future content. Disclaimer: Bioware owns everything._

"ELISSA KATHRYN COUSLAND!"

Elissa winced as her mother's shrill tones bombarded throughout the halls. Elissa had stuffed her nine-year-old self behind a bookcase and prayed to the Maker that her mother wouldn't find her anytime soon. She was hiding. In her opinion, it was the only option since she knew she was in big trouble. She petulantly bit her lip as she thought about the circumstances of her current predicament. It wasn't her fault that there was a candle by her wardrobe. Certainly not her fault that she knocked it over as she danced away from Nan's ministrations. From the sounds of her mother though, she was certain her mother thought it definitely WAS her fault. Her whole wardrobe consumed in one fiery moment. Neither Nan nor Elissa had noticed that the candle fell and started a fire. Not until it was too late. Nan started screaming and ran to get help. Elissa just ran, knowing she was in trouble.

The bookcase moved of its own accord and her father was gazing down at her sternly. Her head down, she looked up at her beloved father, and her lower lip quivered, sticking out just slightly. Tears started to form in the corner of her eyes and her father's face softened.

"Ah, Pup… what am I going to do with you?" He held out his arms and gathered her in them, shushing her quietly. "It's ok sweetheart, but you'll have to make do with boys' clothes until we can get you some new clothes." Elissa mumbled into her father's shirt, her tears soaking his shoulder, "I'm so sorry, Papa." She hiccupped and hugged him tightly. "There, there, Pup. I'll talk to your mother."

Eleanor Cousland was watching the scene from the doorway, her flashing eyes fading and her face softening as she took in the tender moment. A noble was supposed to be graceful, yet her daughter was anything but. Sighing, she said, "Pup, go get cleaned up. Your father and I need to talk."

Elissa had jumped at the sound of her mother's voice. The disappointment was clear, but exasperation was also seeping through. She nodded her head and headed out of the small study, tripping on the rug on her way out.

When she was out of hearing, Eleanor turned to her husband. "Bryce, what are we going to do with her? Nan tells me that she is abysmal at learning what it means to be a lady. She lacks grace and Nan doesn't believe she'll ever find it. She's not interested in any of the womanly arts that most girls her age are." She shook her head in annoyance. "I don't know what to do for her…" she trailed off softly.

"Ellie, she'll find her way. Maybe later than sooner, but she will." His eyes lit up as a thought hit him. "Warrior training! Put her in training with the squires. She'll learn coordination eventually." He put his arms around his wife and hugged her close. "I'm sure she's just a late bloomer, my love. Plus, she'll fit right in now that she has to wear boys' clothes for a little while." He chuckled as his wife's face lit up with a smile in amusement. "Very well, Bryce. But only until she starts to show some coordination!"

* * *

Elissa blew a stray hair out of her face as she sparred off against one of her father's men. Unfortunately for her mother, she still lacked coordination and grace which was why she could be found trying vainly, yet again, to learn some in the training yard. The young man took a swing at her, and she tried to dodge it. Her feet were not working with her brain though and she tripped instead of dodging. She flailed madly as her eyes got big and round. His swing happened to miss her because of her erratic movements. Meanwhile, her flailing managed to hit him twice before she ended up on the ground due to poor balance. He was looking at her in disbelief. Chagrined, she looked up at him and tried to stand up by herself. Unfortunately, she tried to use her sword to help herself up and only managed to sink it into the ground a little bit. She tried to tug it up, but it wasn't moving. The young man said, "Here, let me…" and moved forward to help her get it unstuck at the same time that she gave it one last yank. Her sword came up, and her other hand flailed again and smacked him in the jaw. "Oh! I'm so, so sorry," she babbled at him. "I really didn't mean to do that, honest."

"Yes, my lady, I know."

She winced every time one of her father's men called her "my lady." She wasn't even close to being a lady like her mother. She was gangly at 17 when most girls her age were both plump and curvaceous, or if training like her, at least strong and sure of their movements. She had neither.

"I'll just, um, head on out. I think we did enough for today." To which the young man looked extremely grateful. She blushed in embarrassment and mumbled another apology. Her mother and Nan kept trying to get her to stop mumbling, but it really wasn't something she could help. Like a lot of things it seemed.

She sighed again as she looked down at her armor, still wearing leather armor because she was really just too dangerous in anything else. She winced as she imagined that last "shot" with a steel gauntlet on. Much better if she stays away from that.

Ser Gilmore chose that moment to pop his head into the doorway and called, "My lady?" Another wince. "Your father is asking for your presence in the Great Hall."

"All right, all right, I'm on my way," she grumbled. Ser Gilmore was a friend of her brother's and a knight of the castle. He was also very good looking, but her chances of anything more than friendship with him were nonexistent. He knew exactly how much of a klutz she was. And appearing as she was at the moment in all her sweaty glory, after almost knocking out her opponent by accident, which she was sure he saw, she didn't think that was going to change anytime soon.

She dragged herself out of the training yard and headed to the hall. She stopped to sheathe her sword, as she learned from past experiences that it was best not to do that while moving. Once again, as she started to move, her feet had a mind of their own and she knocked over a decorative suit of armor in the hallway. She grimaced and tried to move the pieces into a pile before anyone came by. Unfortunately, armor crashing down onto a stone floor is very, very loud. Two servants came out of the door close by, while no less than three of her father's knights, and to her utter embarrassment, Ser Gilmore, came back to see what the commotion was. Laughing, Ser Gilmore helped her clean up the mess, while the others just rolled their eyes and went back to their duties. "Thank you, Ser Gilmore," she mumbled. The heat in her cheeks was spreading up until she could feel even her forehead burning with shame. He laughed easily, "It's ok, my lady, just try to be more careful." Then he winked at her. _Winked_ at her. Oh, she knew he was just being his easygoing self, but did he have to _wink_ at her? Her heart beat a little faster in her chest. Who was she kidding? She stamped on her feelings because there was no way he returned them. She saw how he looked at one of the servants – a bosomy young woman, completely unlike Elissa who was flat chested, gangly, and only just beginning to show the strength that went along with sword training. She groaned inwardly and was relieved when he said he would finish up so she could go on ahead to her father.

Her hand on the door to the Great Hall, she took a deep breath and ran a hand over her unkempt hair. It was supposed to be back in a knot, but she couldn't get the knack of making it stay put like Nan could. Nan was unavailable this morning though as she was busy in the kitchen making supplies for all the soldiers who would be heading south to fight the darkspawn horde. For a moment, she daydreamed that she would be going with them; that she wasn't uncoordinated and would lead them all to victory! Mentally shaking herself awake, she turned the knob and strode into the hall. Back to reality.


	2. Chapter 2

Bryce Cousland was standing in the middle of the Great Hall, speaking with Arl Rendon Howe, an old friend of his for many years. Her father stood relaxed as he chatted, easing any worries for his summons she may have had. He wouldn't look that relaxed if something were wrong, would he? She meant to approach in a dignified manner. Why did they have so many rugs? Her feet betrayed her, catching the edge of the rug. She wind milled her arms to try to catch her balance, and for once, she managed to keep it. However, her presence was made known to the men in a matter that was definitely not dignified. She sighed in frustration.

"There you are, Pup. Howe, you remember my daughter?"

Arl Howe looked her up and down and she felt uncomfortably like she was on display. She fidgeted and shuffled her feet nervously. Arl Howe smiled at her as though he liked what he saw. "Pleased to see you again, my dear. I see you are growing into a lovely young woman. I'm sure you'll have suitors lining up any day now."

Elissa felt a sickening lurch in her stomach. Suitors? By the Maker, she can barely walk across a room and he's thinking she could be married? Her face paled at the thought.

"My son, Thomas, asked after you, my dear. Perhaps I should bring him with me next time?"

Another lurch. She remembered Thomas, a bit younger than her. Slight of build like his father, but his looks took after his mother. The Maker's Blessing in that since his father looked like an oiled rat that caught the cheese. But, was Arl Howe suggesting what she thought he was suggesting? "Uh, to what end?" she hoped that came out more 'nonchalant aristocrat' than 'scared little girl with a lump in her throat.'

He smirked at her, "Ha! 'To what end,' she says! So glib, too." With just a hint of sarcasm, he went on, "She's just like her mother when she talks like that." Elissa flushed with embarrassment, at this rate she was going to look like a tomato by the end of the day. To say she had any of the elegance or demeanor of her mother was laughable.

"Howe, that is beneath you," her father scolded.

"I'm sure she is quite talented, my friend. One to watch for further… developments." She held her head high as his words stung her pride, glaring daggers at her father's friend.

Bryce cleared his throat to get his daughter's attention. "Pup, I summoned you for a reason. While your brother and I are both away… you… my darling, will be in charge of the castle."

Elissa's mouth opened and closed a few times like a fish. "But, Father, is that really necessary? Couldn't Mother be in charge?" Her worst nightmare was coming true. This _couldn't_ be true.

"Now, Pup, this is no needless task. I ask you to take this responsibility. Your mother will be away for a time, and as a Cousland, the duty falls to you."

Mouth dry. Heart beating too fast. Bad things happen when she is put in charge. Doesn't her father remember what happened last time? Oh, this is bad. This is very, very bad. "But-"

"Ah, my dear, none of that. You will do this, am I clear?" Bryce looked at his daughter sternly until she meekly nodded her head.

"Good. Now, there is also someone you must meet." He turned to a nearby guardsman, "Please, show Duncan in."

Duncan? Who is that? Maybe a suitor like Arl Howe mentioned? Too soon! She wasn't ready for that. And she looked awful, just having come from her miserable training practice. Her mind reeled as she tried to think who this Duncan could possibly be. The man who walked into the room, however, shattered any preconceptions and left her in awe. This man was dark-haired and swarthy. His presence was profound and she imagined that he was definitely used to authority: giving a command and having it acted upon. She gazed in wonder at him.

Duncan moved smoothly across the floor, and she noticed that he didn't have any problems with the rugs, and bowed slightly to her father, to Arl Howe, and even to herself. "It is an honor to be a guest with your hall, Teyrn Cousland," his voice was deep and slightly gravelly in a commanding voice different from her father's pleasant baritone. A voice filled with hardship and regret. Who _is_ this man?

Howe, in his unctuous way, gave her the information she craved, "Your Lordship, you didn't mention that a Grey Warden would be present." A Grey Warden! She looked at Duncan again, admiring his armor, envious that he felt comfortable in plate and saw that he had two weapon hilts sticking up behind his back. Two! She could barely handle her one sword and couldn't begin to fathom using her other hand to also wield a weapon. She looked at him in awe while her father replied, "Duncan arrived just recently, unannounced. Is there a problem?"

"Of course not, but a guest of this stature demands certain protocol. I am…at a disadvantage." How he could manage to sound like he was groveling and oh-so-smooth at the same time, she would never know. It must be a talent.

Her father replied, "Yes, well… Duncan is an honored guest and I presume he will be treated as such?" Howe nodded curtly, but his eyes looked at Duncan calculatingly.

"Pup, I'm sure you know of the Grey Wardens, yes?"

"Oh yes, Father! They are legendary. It's an honor to meet you." Surprise lit her eyes; surprise that she managed to say that without stuttering or falling flat on her face. Duncan's eyes crinkled at her as he smiled. Like her father's when she did something amusing.

Bryce smiled at his daughter encouragingly, "Duncan is looking for recruits and I believe he's got his eye on Ser Gilmore. Is that correct?"

Duncan nodded, adding thoughtfully, "If I might be so bold, I would suggest that your daughter is also an excellent candidate, from what I have heard."

Elissa looked wildly from Duncan to her father. What had he heard? She could feel the blood rushing to her face, only to rush away again as she paled in dismay. How could he possibly think she was worthy of joining a legendary group?

Bryce coughed delicately, diverting Duncan's attention. Whether he meant what he said, or said it just to try to compliment his daughter, he needed to head off this line of thought. "Honor though that might be, this is my daughter we are talking about. Unless you intend to invoke the Right of Conscription?"

Duncan smiled politely and shook his head. He had heard all about her…difficulties, but also of her spirit. He meant what he said. "Have no fear, my lord. I have no intention of forcing the issue despite that we need as many good recruits as we can find." He offered the teyrn another bow as way of apology.

Her father sighed gratefully and relaxed once again. "Pup, please see to Duncan's requests while I am gone. It's part of your duties." She winced as he added the 'duty' reminder.

"Of course, Father." Turning her full attention back to Duncan, she went on, "Whatever you require, my lord, I would be happy to oblige." There, how's that for aristocratic! Mother would be proud. The whole effect was only slightly marred as she was still disheveled and sweaty.

"In the meantime, Pup, find Fergus and tell him to lead the troops to Ostagar ahead of me. I'm sure he's in his room with Oriana and Oren."

"As you wish, Father." She bowed awkwardly, and turned to leave. She snapped her eyes down in order to watch where she put her feet. She would be damned if she looked like an idiot tripping on the rug on the way out. Sadly, the door proved to be her bane as she opened it trying to make sure her feet were going where she wanted them to be and smacked her head into it. Cursing softly, she made her exit as swiftly as she could, her face burning tomato red.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note**:_ Thank you to The Original Frizz for you review! And to those few who added this story to your favorites. This is a whole new world for me and I really appreciate the support! While I may have some text from the game, I'm really trying to go away from canon as, well, she's just NOT hero material. =) Disclaimer: Bioware owns everything._

The Great Hall door closed softly behind her; a gentle swoosh of air against her back. Rubbing her forehead lightly to try to ease the pain, she looked up with the intention of heading towards her brother's room. And there was Ser Gilmore. Why does he always have to be there just after one of her accidents? And he was looking right at her. He couldn't have been just strolling by, oh no. He was waiting for her it seemed. "Ser Gilmore... how, um… lovely... to see you again." He moved closer to her, his face concerned as his eyes drifted to her forehead. "I'm fine," she said quickly and shied away from him.

"My lady." Maker...was it going to be like this all day? "Are you sure you are all right?" She nodded again, blood flooding her cheeks due to actually hitting her head and having a witness to it. She replied, "Yes... really, I'm just fine. Um, what are you doing here?"

He took a step back from her, keeping a respectable distance as was appropriate for a knight of her father's castle in relation to the teyrn's daughter. Smiling at her in a friendly sort of way, he said, "I am here at the teyrna's request. It seems your hound has the kitchen in an uproar again and Nan is threatening to leave. I'm to accompany you until the matter is resolved."

Elissa groaned and closed her eyes. Her mabari, Brogan, was both a blessing and a curse she thought ruefully. "Brooooogaaaaaannnnnn…" she whined. "What did he do?" as she headed to the kitchen, passing the armor suit that was still in a pile on the floor.

"Apparently he's in the larder. He won't let anyone in and you know Nan needs to get in there to finish putting together supplies for the men." Ser Gilmore looked a bit stern with his brows drawn down in disapproval of her hound's behavior. It's not as if she encouraged her hound, but really, how was she supposed to head this off?

"I'm sure he's just… being stupid or something."

"Yes, well… you know these mabari hounds. He'll listen to his mistress, but anyone else risks having an arm bitten off." He smiled and her mood lifted a little. Her hound was the only thing that seemed to go well in her life. Well, most of the time… kitchen incidents aside. That one of the mabari breed would choose her… she had never been so happy. Now if only she could be even half as nimble as her mabari, her life might really start shaping up. As the thought finished, she tripped over her own feet. She would have done a lovely face plant into the stone floor if Ser Gilmore hadn't caught her in time. Luckily, she didn't weigh enough to drag him down and he was strong enough to set her upright again. Mumbling sincere thanks, she resolved to try to watch her feet more often. Hopefully without smacking any other parts of her body into anything.

"Err…my lady, might I beg a question?"

She looked at him in surprise. Surely he never took this tone with her before. He was almost… hesitant. She nodded for him to continue.

"I've heard from several people that a Grey Warden is here," he said in a rush. "Is that true?"

"Um, yes. It's true. Actually, he intends to test you for recruitment." She smiled at him shyly; pleased with herself.

"Maker's breath! It would be everything I've dreamed of!" he stared off, lost in his thoughts, then shook himself as if bringing his mind out of the dream he was having. "Pardon my outburst, my lady. I shouldn't get ahead of myself."

Elissa couldn't help but notice he seemed to have a new spring in his step. His sure-footed, easy grace of a step. He probably had never fallen or tripped in his life. Envy made her watch his feet over her own for a time. And it really wasn't the best time to lose sight of where they were going as she watched his feet turn towards the door of the kitchen, her own tried to do a mad lurch to keep up and she banged into him from behind. "Oh Maker. I'm so, so sorry…" Why did he have to be wearing full plate? She was starting to feel a headache forming from banging her head so many times in one day.

Ser Gilmore just laughed it off and guided her inside the kitchen to avoid further mishaps. Usually, Elissa wasn't allowed in the kitchen. It was one of Nan's rules. Not that she thought she would be a bad cook, but there were just too many sharp objects and bowls of food that could be knocked over and wasted. Elissa was sure that Nan just felt it was best for all involved. As Ser Gilmore was opening the door, a loud bark permeated into the kitchen from the direction of the larder. It was actually barely heard over Nan yelling. She was throwing a fit and the elven servants were cowering in fright.

"GET HIM OUT! Get him out! I want that bloody mutt out _now_! I have work to do!" Nan's vocal cords were getting a full workout as she shrieked.

Cath, one of the servants, tried to placate her, "But, mistress! It won't let us near!" That's odd behavior even for Brogan. He may be a warhound, but he was gentle as a newborn puppy and loved the kitchen staff.

A guttural scream erupted from Nan's lips. Elissa remembered that scream as it was directed at her while growing up. But really, it wasn't her fault that churning butter could be such a dangerous task. Nan screeched, "If I can't get into that larder…"

Ser Gilmore apparently decided that the elves needed rescuing and interrupted, "Err… please calm down, Nan. I've brought Elissa." He gestured to her.

This was apparently not the right thing to say though. Nan whirled around, her face red with rage as she stalked towards them. Elissa tried to shrink behind Ser Gilmore, which was actually quite easy to do. Big guy in plate was good for something it seemed. "You!" Nan punched her finger into Ser Gilmore's chestplate. Her eyes still found Elissa hiding behind him though. "And _you_!" Elissa was spared a jab to the chest at least, but she winced as Nan raged at her. "Your _bloody_ mongrel keeps getting into my larder! I have soldiers to feed! That…that… _beast_ should be put down!" Spittle flew from Nan's mouth as she punched her finger into Ser Gilmore's chestplate again, even though her eyes were locked on Elissa.

Ser Gilmore came to her rescue again, "Nan, please! We'll get the dog. Please calm down." Elissa nodded her head frantically, wanting to ensure Nan that she would get him out.

"Just get him gone! And you!" She pointed that crazy finger at Elissa, freezing her in place as if it was magic. "You best not make a mess in here!" She turned away and started to mutter to herself, "Oh, how am I supposed to work like this? ..." Thankfully her muttering seemed to calm her a little bit and Ser Gilmore and Elissa made their way over to the larder. Elissa was standing very close to Ser Gilmore's back, and well away from anything else around her. It would just be her luck that she'd ruin the meal for the soldiers trying to get her hound and then Nan would want her hide.

Ser Gilmore opened the door to the larder and tried to look back at Elissa, who he saw was almost plastered to his backside. "Um, my lady? Perhaps you should go in first. It is your hound after all."

"Oh… uh, right. Good idea. I'll just go in first and…" She trailed off as she moved around Ser Gilmore, probably a little too close for his comfort, but there was a large stack of cheese on the table nearby and she really didn't want to knock it over. Ser Gilmore just gave her an amused look. No doubt he knew exactly why she was almost crawling over him to get into the larder.

Her mabari warhound had definitely made a mess in here. It almost rivaled that one time when she was asked to assist in taking the larder's inventory. After that incident, she was asked never to return to the kitchen. Who knew the bags of flour were actually open? And really, was it such a good idea to have barrels on the floor, just waiting to trip someone when they were trying to reach for the honey jars? Yeah, she didn't think so. Brogan had managed to knock a few flour bags over, but it hadn't spread all over the larder floor. Definitely less sticky than her incident. He was facing the corner, growling at the flour bags of all things. What had gotten into him? "Brogaannn, what did you do?" Hearing his mistress' whining, he turned his head and whined right back at her. Then, he turned back and growled at the corner again. Elissa sighed heavily, and keeping to the center of the room as much as possible, she made her way over to her faithful dog.

Ser Gilmore entered behind her, figuring it was safe to enter completely now. Her warhound really did have quite large teeth after all. "Is he, err…is he trying to tell you something?"

Elissa looked back at him perplexedly, and then returned her gaze to her hound. "What is it, boy?"

Suddenly, Ser Gilmore was unsheathing his sword. Really, this wasn't the best place to spar! What is he thinking? Not even a moment later, she found out exactly what he was thinking as he lunged forward and skewered a very large rat that would give even her warhound pause. "Yeaarrggghhhh!" she shrieked as she tried to get away from the nasty thing. She backed right into a shelf holding some serious hardware in the form of very large and heavy, iron pots and pans. The shelf started to tip, and as her eyes got huge, she was pulled to safety by Ser Gilmore as the shelf just decided to go with it and fall down. Her hound danced nimbly away. More rats had followed the first, but, as luck would have it, they were now just a bunch of flattened rats as it appears they were not so nimble. Unfortunately though, the cacophony of the iron pots and pans falling onto the stone floor, followed by the dying screeches of the rats, definitely made itself known to those in the kitchen.

Elissa could hear Nan's shrill voice as the door was yanked open, but she cut off mid-shriek. Nan's eyes popped as she saw her beloved, orderly larder once again become a catastrophe. Her mouth fell open and a tirade was about to break forth, but Brogan chose that moment to bring one of the dead rats over to her. If it was possible, Nan's eyes seemed to pop even more.

Ser Gilmore took Elissa by the arm and steered her out. Brogan laid the dead rat down in front of Nan and went to follow them. "Well, looks like he wasn't raiding the larder after all, Nan. We'll just, uh, be going." He practically dragged Elissa out before Nan could overcome her shock.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Author's Note**: Well this chapter gave me all sorts of trouble. Not that it was overly hard, but I just hadn't a clue how I wanted to do any of it! It's mostly fluff, but we are getting there. Next chapter will be Fergus, and after that... well. The M rating will make more sense then. Big shout out to The Original Frizzi who looked over this chapter for me and corrected many, many, many, many... many english/grammatical errors. :) Also - I highly suggest reading her story called "The Choices We Make." It's absolutely fantastic and so much better than mine. Stop reading this and go read that! :D_

_**Disclaimer:** Bioware owns everything. Except Brogan, that pup is all mine dammit!_

* * *

Ser Gilmore led her away at a brisk pace, Brogan following swiftly at their heels. They just made it around the corner when Nan's voice exploded in fury. They could just make out her ranting and raving, but thankfully, she wasn't coming after them. Elissa sighed in relief and stopped, leaning against the wall. Needing to get the image of rodents of unusual size out of her mind, she looked to Ser Gilmore and asked, "So, um, what happens if the Grey Wardens recruit you?"

"I really only know that once you become a Grey Warden, your old life is over. There's no going back."

"So, if I had been recruited, I would no longer be a noble?"

He looked at her in amusement and she had a momentary urge to stomp on his foot. "I believe so, my lady. But I don't think you need to worry about being recruited, do you?"

"What, with fighting skills such as mine? I took out a whole room of savage rodents with the power of assorted cooking ware!"

Ser Gilmore barked out a laugh as she smiled, her mockery of herself quite evident. He gathered his breath and, with a twinkle in his eye, replied, "Well you are definitely no ordinary woman, my lady. The Grey Wardens would certainly be fools to overlook you."

She smacked his arm playfully, and he chuckled at her. "My lady," he bowed as he smiled, "now that you have your mabari in hand, I'd best be on my way. I'm to prepare for the arrival of the more of the arl's men."

"Right. Uh… thank you, Ser Gilmore."

She watched him as he walked off, her mind for once not thinking about how he looked as he walked, or even how easy it was for him to walk, but his take on what it meant to be a Grey Warden. Her churning thoughts led to her earlier conversation with the Grey Warden himself and her father. Her brother! She almost completely forgot her father's order. "Come on, Brogan. Father asked me to find Fergus." She grasped his collar and whistled for him to lead on. Her sturdy companion, leading her through the dangerous halls of her home! Brogan nudged her away from another decorative armor set, two potted plants, some washing that was out to dry, and even helped her make it across a pesky rug.

Approaching the atrium, she heard her mother's melodious voice chatting amicably with her guest, Lady Landra. Elissa had met Lady Landra and her son Dairren at a salon last year where the lady had tried to set her son up with her. She really shouldn't have bothered. He was polite, but he made it perfectly clear that he just wasn't interested in her. Nor in women at all, in fact. His lack of interest in the opposite sex hardly made her feel better about the whole situation though. If she didn't have to go through the atrium to reach her family's personal rooms, she would have avoided this place like the plague.

With Brogan leading her, she entered the atrium just as her mother was saying, "…and my dear Bryce brought this back from Orlais last year." Eleanor gestured to her beautiful gown. "The marquis who gave it to him was drunk, I understand, and mistook Bryce for the king." Her lilting laughter, accompanied by the twitter of Lady Landra and Dairren's not-so-macho chuckle, followed this tidbit of gossip. Brogan decided to join in and emitted a rumbling woof-bark that sounded as if he was laughing as well, bringing Eleanor's attention to the new arrivals. "Ah, my dear child," her eyes flicking to Brogan and back. "I take it the kitchen situation has been handled?"

"Yes, Mother. Err…mostly handled." Her cheeks turned a slight pink and she tried to will herself to not give in.

"Mostly?" With a glance at her guests, as if to say, be careful what you say, she continued. "I see. Well, I will assume that means that Nan is back to work, so my guests will be able to eat soon."

"Yes, Mother." Looking to get away, she said, "Um… if you will excuse me? Father sent me to find Fergus."

"No time for civility, I see," her mother replied disapprovingly. Elissa fidgeted, unsure if that meant she could leave yet or not. Apparently it was not as her mother went on, "Darling, you remember Lady Landra? Bann Loren's wife?"

Lady Landra smiled at her a little too much like a wolf who was staring down a rabbit for dinner for her peace of mind. The older lady drawled, most uncharmingly, "I think we met at your mother's spring salon. You remember my son, Dairren?" She gestured to her son, dressed in his usual frippery and looking like a peacock in flamboyant colors. He was only missing a ridiculous hat to complete the picture, but she was sure it was left in his room by his mother's request. Elissa was certain that he probably donned his hat and then strutted back and forth in front of his mirror, admiring himself.

"Err…yes, of course I do." She nodded politely in his direction, wishing to keep it short and make her escape.

"My lady," he bowed to her respectfully enough, but a tinge of boredom was still in his tone. "I trust you have been well?"

"Um, yes. And you? Still not married yet, eh?" Elissa could almost see Lady Landra's ears perk up.

"No, my lady." He looked positively green and licked his lips nervously with a sideways glance at his mother.

"Ah, such a shame." She grinned a little wickedly. "I'm sure you'll find the right _match_ for you soon." His smile was definitely not quite as strong as it was. "May I go now, Mother? I really do need to find Fergus for father."

Lady Landra piped up before Eleanor could answer. "My dear Eleanor, I think I shall rest now. Dairren, I will see you at supper, yes?"

"Very well, Mother. I will retire to the study for now; I hear you have an excellent collection." Books. Of course he would be more interested in books! Lady Landra glided away to her room. Dairren tried to strut, but really looked like he wanted to prance away. Elissa stifled a giggle.

"Really darling, so brusque," her mother scolded her. "To be a lady, you must mingle. And it wouldn't hurt you to get to know Dairren. He's a suitable match for you, young lady."

"But," Elissa whined, "he's not interested in… me."

"Perhaps you should give it a chance, hmm?" Her perfect eyebrows rose as if there could be no question that her will should happen.

Eager to be gone and away from this most uncomfortable discussion, Elissa started to edge towards their family's rooms.

Eleanor recognized the look on her daughter's face. She wanted to run for it. But Eleanor wasn't a battle maiden when she was younger for nothing, and she had all the coordination that Elissa lacked. Her mother stepped forward and swept her into a hug, before Elissa could try to dodge around her. "I love you, my darling girl. You know that, don't you?"

"I love you too, Mother," she muffled into her mother's shoulder. Pulling away slightly, in an attempt to change the subject, she asked, "Mother, do you have to go? Father said I'm to be in charge here… I… I don't think you should go." Her lower lip was threatening to go into a full-on pout.

"Don't worry, my dear. I won't be gone that long. I'll just be visiting with Lady Landra at her estate and to keep her company for awhile. I have… every confidence that you will do just fine here." Eleanor lied uneasily. Truth be told, she was nervous, but her daughter needed to do this.

"But, Mother, you _know_ what happened last time…"

"My darling, I don't want to hear another word about it. You have your duty. And Couslands always do their duty."

The duty mantra again. Elissa sighed resignedly and nodded her head.

"All right sweetheart, go and do your Father's wishes."

Elissa took Brogan's collar and whistled for him to lead on once again. He started out a little too enthusiastically though and lurched out when she wasn't quite ready to follow. His movement caused her to move a little erratically and she went straight into a hanging pot with flowers. She managed to at least get one hand up in time to save her forehead from another bashing. Unfortunately for the flowers, her hand pushed it out of its secure holder, upending the pot which crashed down. Pottery shards flew and her mother's poor hydrangeas looked sad indeed.

Eleanor waved her daughter on. "Don't worry, darling. I'll have someone clean this up. Off you go now." She watched as her daughter righted herself with her mabari's help and waited until she was out of sight before pinching the bridge of her nose. Looking sadly down at the mess, she truly hoped that they weren't making a mistake by leaving her in charge.


End file.
